Silver Banter
by Gimpy1
Summary: On a night singled out for tradition sometimes the most untraditional and unexpected things can happen. R for language and minor sexual humorRL


Author's Note: Honesty - a trait normally lacking in most relationships. Don't tell me its not true cause there is always something someone doesn't know about you. This… well I don't know what it is aside from the fact that it's a one-shot, one chapter, potential for another though only if wanted, one-shot. Honesty plays a role in that Logan can't help but be honest with Marie. Whether it hurts the relationship or fuels it, you'll have to read to find out. Please tell me if its confusing in anyway, my beta told me the banter was to her and now I've freaked out. Thing is this humor is my humor and I do tend to go over peoples heads.

All I ask is that you give it a chance and attempt to enjoy,

Gimpy

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Silver Banter

By Gimpy

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Strong willed strands of hair presented themselves before her face for the fifth time in ten minutes. Huffing softly she twirled the menaces around her slender finger and pulled them behind her ear. Adjusting her thick plastic framed reading glasses up her smooth nose she stared through the lenses at the massive amount of work pilled before her with a deep frown.

Tonight was another one of her infamous grading nights, a night in which she hopelessly attempted to mark the accumulated papers from the entire week in one long and dragged out night. She'd transformed it into a tradition where she put on her most comfortable flannel pajama pants, her favorite vintage tee, pulled her hair into a useless but quick bun and sat cross legged on her oversized bed until her eyes crossed. Of course it was never complete without the biggest thermos you could ever find filled with almost two full pots of coffee resting on the little table that sat before her bed.

She loathed and loved these nights. Loathed because they were brutal, keeping her up almost all night. Loved because she lived to read what her students came up with over the week. Philosophy and English had been her majors and now she taught them, enjoying every second of it because no one student's mind worked like any other. Every time she dispensed with a subject, be it giving them one word and asking them to define it or a full-fledged theme to be found in almost every literary masterpiece, the end result always differed from student to student. She loved knowing how their minds worked, nothing in her class was ever wrong if thought and detail went into it and she rarely found herself hating anything they came up with. She hated to admit it, as humble as she truly was, but she was good at what she did, a fact that made so many students add her class to their lists every semester.

Grasping her favorite coffee mug given to her by her mentor, she took a generous sip. Her nose wrinkled when she realized the bitter liquid had turned cold. Sighing she reached for the thermos and twisted off the cap. Tipping it over she groaned again. Every last drop of almost two full pots of coffee had vanished and she was only half way into the night. Laughing humbly at herself and her major coffee habit, she twisted the cap back on and pushed her red indelible ink pen into the mass of wavy hair barely being held together at the base of her neck.

"You out already?" A soft masculine voice called to her from the other side of her room.

His soft hazel eyes peered over, warm laugh lines curving eloquently around them. Flashing her counterpart a bashful smile, the blush that formed confirmed his suspicions.

Pushing herself onto her knees, she crawled to the edge of the bed and peered down. It was almost a full meter off the ground, another thing she hated but loved at the same time. When she was sore the climb down was killer but when she wasn't the climb made her feel like a carefree kid again. She loved feeling like a kid. Grabbing the closest post of her four-post bed she used it to slide off the enormous bed, a giggle echoing in the spacious room.

Her counterpart chuckled at the sound, earning a radiant grin that he drank up greedily. For over a month now he'd started to join her in the Friday night tradition, finding the time spent with her, even when in silence, made the normally grueling task go by quicker. He also couldn't get enough of her laugh, fed off it, lived off it and yearned to keep it there at all costs.

Surprisingly his joining her in the tradition had been her idea. She always had a knack for knowing when someone was in need. There was no telepathy in her but she just knew. If you were upset she consoled without you having to say a thing. If you were mad she let you take your anger out on her without repercussions. And if you were happy, the beyond belief, giddy, goofy, I just won one million dollars, kind of happy, she did everything she could to keep it that way.

With him, she'd recognized the stress grading was taking on him and took it upon herself to make things better. Of course it had been his own fault, taking on a class he knew barely anything about, taking up teaching for that matter. He was a man's man, teaching wasn't really his thing. And him thinking he could get everything marked the night it was handed in… Well when you lose almost three hours of sleep every night for over a week it apparently makes you very agitated, not that he wasn't normally in a permanent state of agitation when it came to everyone but her. Her solution, one night a week spent grading until the wee hours of the morn. Better for the mind and body because then you can sleep the next day, all day.

"I'll just be… well a half an hour at best. For some odd reason coffee takes forever to perk," she mused, collecting her large coffee mug and thermos.

"Who would have thought," he added, a grin permanently painted on his face. Which was usually the case for anyone when in the presence of this beauty. Though for him it was an oddity. He was feral, the overbearing wolverine, with a reputation. Thankfully moments like this almost only ever happened when in the confines of her quaint little room. No onlookers, no ruined reputation, plus he got to be witness to her in her most natural state.

Flashing him another brilliant smile she almost skipped out of the bedroom and into the small living room that led to the hall. Chuckling to himself at her giddiness, he turned back to the history papers strewn out before him. Many of them were marked or rather tainted with D's and F's and he hated it. Hated that his students didn't take an interest in the class. If they did they might actually find it easy to learn and perhaps even interesting, much like he had. Maybe it was his teaching skills that made… he picked up one particular paper and read the name, Jamie. Maybe it was his teaching skills that led Jamie to believe Hitler had started the First World War and not the Arch Duke Ferdinand's assassination. Considering Hitler was Second World War boy and that he may very well have been alive during it, he found it almost insulting.

His self-hating thoughts were cut off when the beautiful woman came fumbling back into the room with a wrinkle in her brow.

"You didn't forget where the coffee maker is, did you?" he joked, mock fear staining his features, knowing just the concept was ridiculous. "Cause I'm pretty sure the road to caffeine is etched into your brain and if you did I may just have to call the doctor. Do you have a fever? Are there any other symptoms? Headache? Sore stomach? You can tell me, I can take it." The look on his face was priceless, his fake concern washing away the lines and forcing another 50watt smile on her face. If ruining his reputation meant getting one of those it was almost worth it. Almost, of course with three exclamation marks and four underlines.

"Yeah, actually, there's this real big pain in my ass that I may have to remove with a weed whacker," she shot back, grinning broadly and tossing one of her many, many, throw pillows, at his head.

Logan caught it effortlessly and smiled. "Just making sure, can't have you keeling over on me."

"Uh huh," she quipped, the smile ever present. She marched towards him and he feared another pillow in the face. "Could you hold these?" she inquired softly, carefully passing her overly worshipped mug and thermos to him.

"Sure." Taking them gently from her hands, he watched her cross the room and grab her silk housecoat, the one with oriental flowers in golden hued, satiny colors. Pulling it up her arms he simply took in her every movement, each one poised and graceful but completely quirky at the same time. Like the flipping of her hair from underneath the silk and the loose tying up in the front.

Satisfied she was properly covered she reached for her favorite things in the world with a grin. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Stalling she turned back to him. "You wanna take a break and come with? We could play a game of foosball while we wait. I even promise to go easy on you."

"Oh! Oh," he cried dramatically. Years before you never would have ever been witness to such a thing from the hardened Logan. Then again a few years spent around the beauty before him could turn any man soft.

"You wound my pea sized ego!" Never be above self-ridicule. Just a lesson you should learn that she taught him. That and don't put so much worth on pride. "Now I must beat you, for the sake of every green pea in the nation."

A full out laugh filled the room, her eyes dancing joyfully in the soft lamplight. "You are such a drama queen."

Her words caught him in mid-rise from the oversized couch he'd taken to. Openmouthed and eyes wide he stared up at her. The wolverine a drama queen? Absurd right?

He quickly calmed and brought himself into the most female and girly stance he could manage.

Or you know, not.

Curving his arm in his best and completely ridiculous impersonation and placing it delicately, or the next best thing to it, on his chest he quipped in a high and giddy voice. "How dare you?" The hand flew to the side of his forehead and he tossed his head back. Can you say whipped? As in whipped cream with strawberries on top?

The bubble burst and she practically fell over herself laughing. "Oh!" she breathed through the waves of giggles. "Oh god! Haha! You're too much fun," she breathed, laughing so hard no sound could be heard but the harsh intake of breath as she tried to regain her composure. She tumbled towards the door, grasping her tummy and trembling with laughter. "Remind me never to put you down." She called over her shoulder as she vanished out the door.

"So I'm a dog now am I?" he called back, racing to catch up with her. "First I'm a drama queen, now a dog, what's next?"

"Monkey," she twirled around in one big circle, still grinning like a goof.

"Monkey?" He was beginning to question her sanity, then again it had always been in question. That's what made her so lovable. "So, miss zoo keeper, am I ever going to be a man again?"

"Is male monkey okay with you?" she asked, bursting into a run and then sliding on her socks almost right past the banister. She grabbed it, skidding to a stop. His own pace never picked up as he casually made his way towards her. At twenty-four she was still the ever-lasting kid but he had to at least keep an air of something manly. Especially after his little transvestite, or attempted transvestite performance back there.

"Like a silver back? Course I won't let you eat your own young but hey! You can be like that silver back in the cell phone commercial. You know the one who makes calls on someone else's cell phone when he's roaming."

He couldn't help but shake his head at another one of her infamous qualities. She should have majored in rambling on and on with no end in sight. Together they made their way down the expensive and richly ornate staircase.

"Course you're not exactly smart enough to know _how _to dial on a cell phone…" she mused, bumping into him purposefully with a smirk.

Coming from anyone else, heads would have rolled, but on these nights when no one else existed except for them she could say anything and he would have simply retorted with something just as idiotic and funny. "True but with the stylish and if I do say so myself, quite handsome silver fur covering my back, the ladies won't care that I can't dial the cell phone." Another one of her several and infamous traits, the ability to force others into her mundane and sometimes idiotic babbling sessions.

"Yes but!" she exclaimed, hopping over the last three steps and walking backwards so she could look him in the eye. "If you can't call them, them beautiful not so silver backed monkeys may just dry up. Then again you won't have babies for me to prevent you from eating."

Chuckling he reasoned, "So the con is no sex, which if I might add is a scary, nightmarish thought, and the pro is no babies for me to eat, something I would never do no matter what species I am."

Swiveling back around and entering the small and dark kitchen she thought about his assessment. "Yep, course the likelihood of you finding a not so silver backed female monkey to mate with would have been impossible, with or without the cell phone dialing skills," she added, flipping the light switch. As per tradition she paused in the threshold and stood in awe of the blue stained glass lining the back of the quaint kitchen. "Damn I love that," she whispered and moved to start the process of coffee making.

"Every time you come in here you say that," he stated the obvious, which she only laughed at.

"That's cause it's still just as beautiful as last time I was in here and things that beautiful deserve to be admired."

Oh he could agree with that, like herself for example. A fact not known to her, she was the most admired thing in the entire mansion. There weren't enough fingers in the world to count how many times he'd caught a student gawking at her and not all of them have been boys. That's just how admirable she was, even completely straight woman couldn't help but stare. Course gender never prevented him from growling when he caught them in action. Once again, a fact she does not know nor would she believe, so don't tell her.

"An-n-n-n-n-nd…" she crowed under her breath, reminding him of a sports announcer from one of the many Canadian hockey games they'd watched together. Finishing off the coffee grounds she closed the coffee maker and smiled. "Were off!" she cried happily. "So," she drawled, hopping up on the counter next to the pot. "Foosball or what?"

"Up to you, I'm still reeling from the no sex thing," he droned.

"Oh come on!" The smile on her face broadened, her slender but muscular legs swinging back and forth. "You would think that the prospect of _not_ having to do it with a not so silver backed female monkey would be a good thing."

"I don't care what animal I am, I will always want sex." He added seriously, eyeing her coyly, though she didn't notice. She never seamed to notice and he would always remember a time when the crush had been hers not his.

"Just picture it, you bending over that fine black piece of fury ass…"

"Okay! Okay! I get your point now put a cork in it." His face contorted at the idea of a fury ass and he shuttered. "Gah!"

Giggling once more at his expense she asked, "We have ten minutes, so do wanna sit here and go over the anatomy of bestial monkey sex or can I go wound your pride even further by kicking your tanned ass at foosball."

"Getting a little cocky are we?" he asked with a raised brow.

Jumping from the counter and heading towards the door she hit him below the belt when she cooed, "Considering it's the only kind of cocky you'll ever know you'd think you'd be grateful."

He physically bent over, stumbling to lean dramatically on the doorframe, crying after her, "That was just mean! And completely untrue, you have some of my memories in that head of yours and you know it's not true." Before she slipped completely into the game room he caught her shrug and shook his head. "I'd say the same thing about you, it'd be true too, but I'm not _that_ mean." When he rounded the corner he bumped right into her slight frame almost toppling both of them with his metal-laced frame.

"Oh sugah," she cooed, her large emerald greens lined in provocative heat. "Unlike you, I will never have a problem with _getting_ cocky." Blowing him a fake kiss she weaved her way towards the foosball table.

Growling huskily for all he was worth, he planted his feet and watched her sashay her hips overtly. A show put on just for him. When she turned she all but doubled over in fitful giggles. Shaking her head she muttered warmly, "Men…"

"Women," he echoed her sentiment almost to the letter. "So miss thing, red or blue?" he asked, already taking his place at blue. He was always blue and she was always red. Always. Why ask? Sometimes it's best to offer change because you never know when it's needed. Especially when it comes to women. Silently he thought of a few changes that he wanted to happen with this woman.

"We've been playing for almost three years and never once have we ever switched sides, yet every time you ask. And you say I'm a stickler for traditions," she teased, knowing he'd have to respond.

"Oh you are," he shot back with a smirk. "I'm just a gentlemen."

The emerald greens rolled in jest as she spoke, "Right, cause gentlemen do not so silver backed female monkeys up the…"

"Nuh-uh! You won that conversation, no more silver or not so silver backed monkeys! Please," he begged softly. He was still trying to dispel the mental images she'd created.

"Fine." With her head held high, pretending to be superior, he found the same old feelings growing in the pit of his stomach.

Damn, he loved this woman. Did he just think that? Guess he had. Did she know? He suspected she did, course if she didn't he really would have to get her head examined because he knew for a fact that it was almost always sprawled across his face. However much he tried to be the mystery, she always managed to see past it. A smacking sound snapped him out of his thoughts.

Arms held high in the air, she cried, "Score!" Leaning over she moved one point onto her side. "D'Ancanto one, Wolvie zero! Woo!"

"Penalty! Where's a judge when you need one!"

"Oh come on, don't be a poor loser."

"Poor loser? Poor loser! I wasn't even prepared," he snarled.

"You day dream, you screw the team, wolverine," she taunted then stopped. Straightening, looking very proud of herself she mused, "Hey! That rhymed, heh!"

"Yes, you're a master poet, now shut up and play the damned game," he grumbled. There was no real anger in it of course, in fact he was more amused then anything. A giddy woman was far better then a scowling woman, though when she scowled she did this thing with her nose that well… you get the idea.

The allotted ten minutes came and went neither one taking notice. With the biggest and proudest smile he'd ever seen, she advanced on him, her agile fingers toying with the collar of his plaid button up shirt.

"So grasshopper, have I squashed your pea sized ego enough or are their other green peas you need me to massacre?" So she was winning, didn't mean he wanted to stop playing. It was far better then grading inane papers all night.

"Best eight out of fifteen?" He was down by five and he knew he could pull off a miracle and win it for the home team. Hell he'd been letting her win the whole time, simply enjoying the pride rolling off her in waves.

Apparently she knew it too. Rolling her eyes, she released his collar and started out of the room. "No, last thing I need is you squashing my winning streak cause your tired of pretending to lose. So coffee, then papers."

Following her like a lost little puppy he groaned. "But I dun wanna!" he cried as if he were four years old and she'd just told him they had to leave the McDonald's play station. He didn't mean to, honestly. Oh who was he kidding. Take all the pictures you want, this is one of the only times you'll see the wolverine quite like this. Or so he hoped.

"Aww," she cooed, not even turning around. "Poor baby."

"Damn straight," he smirked.

Upon entering the kitchen he was forced to wait for her customary admiration of the stained glass to end before he could fully enter the room.

"So sensei," he started, hiding his building smirk as she poured the already brewed coffee into her thermos, hungrily watching as it trickled in. "Gonna make up a half pot before we head up? Or is one pot enough to satisfy you?"

The disbelieving look she tossed his way forced the smirk to the forefront. "One pot? Please, now whose two lollipops short of a doctors office?"

"That's what I thought." Leaving her to attend her precious coffee maker he eased himself into one of the barstools lingering around the island.

Content that half a pot of scalding jo was on it's way she leaned against the other side of the counter. Catching the curved little smirk on his rugged features she question him on it, "What?"

Feigning confusion he repeated her question, "What?"

"You have an evil little grin on your face," she amended.

"I do?"

"Yeah, you do. What's going through that blonde head of yours?"

"I'm not blonde, never have been from what I can remember and what have I told you about calling me blonde?" he ribbed softly.

"Never on Sundays and twice on Tuesdays?" she retorted.

He scoffed, "Cute."

Posing in a mockingly bimbo-ish stance, she batted her eyes and murmured, "I try."

"And succeed, more often then not." More honesty, what could he say, when he was around her keeping things in just becomes hard. At first, that was never the case, he could keep a secret until death, not that it would ever truly come to that. Now… if he peered into her striking green eyes there was nothing he could do. He wondered when she had become so powerful, when the hold on him had strengthened.

A blush burned across her bashful face and he was lost in her beauty. "You don't have to say that you know."

"Nuh-uh," he disagreed, his hand slipping across the table to take hold on hers. "I'm not just saying it cause I have to." He was serious, beyond serious actually and it made her blush even further.

The earthly man before her had a thing for her, she knew that, pretended not to but she did. A few years ago that fact would have thrilled her but in that moment she felt awkward. And it showed, quite adamantly on her gorgeous features, causing him to pull back, disappointment more visible.

"Logan…" she drawled, upset that she'd upset him.

"Hey, no, it's okay, my bad, completely, I went too far." It was his turn to babble first. "Maybe I should, yeah, night," he rambled, pointing to the door and then following his own lead.

Exasperated, she hesitated wanting to rush out after him. Sure she liked him, did she _like_, like him? She didn't know anymore. So much had changed in the few years he'd been back. Jean had died and his attentions had turned towards her. But then she'd resurrected herself and Rogue had lost his affections. She'd grown accustom to that fact and had let her crush on the feral man go. And now… Jean was gone again, living with her husband, Scott, on some island she couldn't pronounce in an ocean she couldn't remember the name of. And once again his affections veered in on her. She was tired of being his second choice, but she respected and loved the man he'd grown into. He was her friend, her best friend.

Sighing she dashed out the door. Upon leaving the kitchen and turning the corner she collided with his chest, hard. He chuckled bracing her against him.

He may not get to have her but he wasn't going to let that ruin the friendship he had with her. So if pretending that little scene back there was fake, a form of teasing, was the only way to keep things comfortable between them he wasn't above it.

"Takes you five seconds? I like to believe I'm a two second chase not a five." Okay, bad play but the only thing he could think off.

Gaping she glanced back and forth between him the room they'd just come from. "That was a joke?"

He nodded with a smile, though inside he was anything but happy.

"Oh my god! You prick," she slapped him, hard, right on the chest and all he did was chuckle.

When you put friendship vs. love and love entails the prospect of losing the friendship, a man will do anything to keep the friendship. At least he would.

"Eh, what can I say?" he shrugged, his chest stinging from her slap.

"How about sorry?" she jested, her smile not as wide as it had been earlier that night.

This moment wasn't real, they both knew it but they were also content to just let that be. Again, when friendship is pitted against love, friendship usually comes out on top. An awkward silence followed their uncomfortable laughter. They sighed together and moved back to the kitchen as one. Grabbing at the completed half pot, she poured it into her thermos, filling it to the rim and then twisting on the cap. Logan grabbed her mug and then one for his use. Together they made their way back upstairs.

The mansion seemed dead in their wake, neither one willing to speak, pretending they were okay with that. They paced themselves down the long corridor, noticing for the first time how much the floors creaked and echoed in the large halls. It was peaceful in a way, aside from the strain that was now present between the two. Reaching the door that was unmistakably hers, with its Chinese letters, little butterflies painted around it and her name sprawled elegantly across the top, the unease doubled.

Both entertained the thought of calling it quits, but neither one did. Opening the door for her, he gestured with his hand and gallantly whispered, "After you, m'lady."

She played along with the gallantry softly replying, "Why thank you good Sir."

Making her way to her bed she quickly placed her thermos on the small table at the foot of her bed and waited for him to put down both mugs. He did and then idly waited for her to fill his mug. They'd forgotten his cream but he ignored that fact. It's not like he hated black coffee, he just didn't love it like she did but he could suffer through it, for a time.

Smiling gratefully, he took his mug and stood before his oversized, overstuffed couch. Placing the mug on the table, away from the papers. He picked one up, reading it over silently. Behind him, her evergreen eyes watched, admiring his broad figure, his muscular arms and even through the red plaid shirt she could see the masculine lines of his agile back. All in all he was handsome, gorgeous even, devilishly and ruggedly so. So why did she feel unnerved when it came to him? She wasn't blind, she knew he was a looker, saw the teenaged girls taking their eyefuls. She even had done so several times, like just now. And still she couldn't bring herself to be stirred deeply by him.

With a sigh she climbed back up onto her king sized, should have been made for an elephant, bed and made herself comfortable before her papers. Clasping her idolized mug in one hand and taking a timid sip, she grabbed at a paper in the other and began to read it over. Twenty minutes later she realized that she still hadn't gotten past the first chapter. Why did students not care about penmanship? She sure as hell did. Groaning she felt a muscle in her back go tight and was forced to let go of her ever-present mug to try and knead out the knot.

"You alright over there?" Logan asked from his side of the room. Can you say square one?

"Ugh… no… For some unsightly reason my student here has lost the ability to print correctly, why he didn't use a computer I'll never know," she grumbled, and tried fruitlessly to get at the muscle winding even tighter. "That and I have this… hmmm… knot… right here." Rogue motioned to the spot with a pout working fully on her luscious lips.

Swallowing the distance between himself and the bed he questioned hesitantly, "Mind if I?"

Staring up at him with a tint of apprehension she relented when the knot decided to make itself known my causing a mountain of convulsions to flow down her arm. "Please and thank you," she muttered under the pain.

Cautiously he stepped up onto the bed, his weight causing it to shift big time. Positioning himself behind her he could smell her reluctance. His own fears manifested themselves, not because of her mutation, everyone one knew the young woman had conquered that hill. He'd been there himself as a test dummy. No his fear was of going somewhere he wasn't supposed to be, somewhere he wanted to be but couldn't.

Cracking every single knuckle in his hands as preparation she squirmed.

"Eww!" Her nose wrinkled at the sound. "I hate it when you do that."

Leaning in, going closer then needed, he whispered, "I know."

The husky undertones caused her to shiver. That was his trademark, his infamous move. The deeper his voice got the more wolverine he went. That side to him was like a second skin, almost a second man living within him.

Composing himself, he rested his large and callused hands on her shoulders. She tensed, loathing and reveling in the feel of his hands on her. Slowly he worked his thumb into the aching muscles. Small and gentle circles at first then tenderly they grew larger, pushing deeper into her flesh. She couldn't help it, she groaned. The way his hands were moving, easing and relaxing the tense muscles in her shoulder. It was heaven on earth, literally.

She fell into his ministrations, becoming a massive ball of putty. There was nothing he couldn't do in that moment to upset her. That reality dawned on him a little. He was in complete control and wherever this led, she would go willingly. It scared him, not her willingness but his desire to follow through with it. His astute thumb found one spot on the back of her neck, she curved into it and he swore he heard her purr.

"Oh Logan," she groaned, falling into a trance.

That sound, his name falling from her lips like that. It was too much. As if touching her burned he jerked his hands away. She fell back, his arms no longer holding her completely relaxed form up. Landing against his chest the air rushed from her lungs.

"Whoa," she breathed, her expression completely dazed. She smiled softly up at him. "Thank you," she cooed.

There was no stopping the smile from spreading across his face and before he knew it he'd leant down and grazed her cheek with his lips. "Any time." When she didn't show signs of removing herself from his chest his smile slipped.

Hers only grew, becoming goofy and lazy all at once. "You are a god with your hands you know that?"

The double meaning that could be placed behind that did not go unnoticed to him. He chuckled softly and moved his hands under her back to push her up. He couldn't do it, no matter how damned sexy she looked.

Getting his hint she blushed. "Sorry," she murmured, using her own strength to tear herself from him.

That awkward silence thing descended as she sat up. See? Changing a relationship can ruin everything. She knew that, he knew that and yet… they both wanted to see where that moment would have led. Confused beyond belief she swiveled herself around so she could face him. Logan had to hold his breath at the beautiful sight she made, seemingly glowing in the dimly lit room. With her hair cascading where ever it wanted to be, her thick glasses resting further down the slope of her nose then honestly necessary, that red pen still sitting at the base of her bun and her glimmering silk housecoat grasping at the light and drawing it in… It was like seeing the ocean for the first time, unmatchable in beauty and unmistakable in power.

"Wow," he whispered no other words possible he was so taken.

She blushed crimson and bowed away from his appraisal. "Logan…" she started but couldn't bring herself to finish.

He realized then that he'd been gawking and sighed. "Sorry," he muttered and started to climb off the bed. A timid hand on his forearm stopped him. Traveling the length of it and descending upon her shimmering eyes he questioned her with a simple look.

"Can I… can we talk, for a second? Seriously?" she added that last word when she realized all they'd been doing that night was talking in jest and good fun.

He nodded calmly, pushing himself back up onto the bed. None of the other Fridays had ever turned out like this and he wondered why this one was. Tenderly she took his hands into hers, his own enormous ones dwarfing hers. Mindlessly his thumb worked over her smooth knuckles, he knew that her ability to touch was newly acquired and unexplored. He wanted her to get used to the idea and ever since that moment in the underground facility when she'd touched him without consequence he'd taken it upon himself to give her that sensation when ever possible. Be it a gentle squeeze of the hand or shoulder, whatever he could giver her respectfully, he did.

Grinning softly at the caress she spoke softly, "Thank you. You've been there for me through out the whole no-touch-now-I-can-touch thing. And even though you think I didn't notice that you've taken it upon yourself to get me used to it, I have and it means a lot."

He tried to brush it aside with a shrug, pretending it was nothing and she wouldn't have it.

Staring him right in the eye she spoke directly and calmly, leaving him no wiggle room to speak of. "It means _a lot_ to me and I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you. Now don't tell me I don't have to cause I do. I don't think you could understand how… how much it's… helped."

"I think I do," he murmured, brushed her hands intently. "You've done a lot for me too. I'm easier to live with now." The comment got the wanted reaction, a light and whispery giggle.

"I've been thanked profusely for that one," she joked back getting a chuckle out of him.

The silence that followed wasn't like before, his thumb constantly caressing her in languish movements taking away any possibility of discomfort. Content for a moment she realized she'd said barely half of what she'd wanted to. At her inhale he looked up from their entwined hands.

"I don't," she paused to gather herself. "I don't…" She laughed nervously, losing her voice completely.

"You don't…" he encouraged, wanting yet at the same time unsure of what she wanted to say.

Breaking their shared gaze for a moment to really collect herself she found his eyes again and spoke softly. "I don't want… to be your… uh…. I don't want to be your second choice," she rushed, getting the words out before she could falter again.

His infamous brow of rose in question. "My second choice?"

Sighing, her gaze faltered again when she tried to speak again. "You've always had this… long standing, almost miraculous, hard on for a certain red head who will remain nameless though I respect her dearly, love her deeply and would never, ever, curse her name… on Sundays anyway," she quipped, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "I dunno know, I've always come second when she's around and I don't wanna be _that_."

That caught him completely off guard, it was from way out in left field though honestly he should have seen it. Tightening his grip on her small hands he pierced her with his own impenetrable gaze. "Is that what you think?"

Cocking her head to the side in disbelief, she muttered, "I don't think Logan, I know. It happens every time she comes back. When she's not here your mine, when she is… I don't know who you are. I'm not gonna settle for coming second, cause she might come back and then I'll be stuck holding the silver by de-fault."

What do you say to that? How do you make that right? Honesty of course… the dreaded word she'd forced upon him. Keep no secrets, tell no lies. Inhaling deeply he released one of her hands and slowly let it cup her chiseled cheek. "You wanna know something?"

"If it's about not so silver backed moneys who have great a-aaah mupher frupher." His hand landing over her mouth before she could finish, though what she mumbled afterwards… if you can't tell what it is you live in a bubble.

"No more monkey's and their asses! Please! Unless in the next five minute both you and I are going to turn in silver and not so silver backs monkeys NO more!" The scold was half hearted and the twinkle in her eyes let him know that she wasn't offended. "Agreed?" he asked, slowly taking his hand away.

When it was far enough away she squabbled, "Silver-monkey-ass!"

"Damn-it!" Hand back on mouth with an evil glare. "You said serious conversation here, se-ri-ous…" And there were the sad puppy eyes, eyes no one could say no too and he soon found himself releasing her.

"I'm sorry, serious, not a strong suit of mine," she softly admitted.

"Well this was your idea so you can either hear what I have to say, which I will only ever say once, or I can return to my papers and add a few more D's and F's. Your choice." If he knew scolding her had the added bonus of getting to watch her nibble on her bottom lip he probably… wouldn't have don't it a long time ago, just found a different way to make her do that.

"Speak," she muttered. "Forever hold the peace and all that."

Casting her a gentle smile he weaved his fingers between hers. "You are, always have, and always will be my first."

"Then why all the Jean lusting, chasing the forbidden and seriously taken tail?"

Put a man on the spot, why don't you? Sighing he prepared himself once more for the truth. "You… back then you were unattainable to me."

"Unattainable? I do believe I literally threw myself at you once," she murmured with a lopsided grin.

"Oh I remember," he mused, his own grin going lopsided.

"Rather fondly it seems."

"It's not everyday the sexiest thing alive throws herself at you," he quipped with a shrug.

She giggled softly, her face going a deep red. "So I was unattainable… so was Jean more so then me actually."

"Yeah but in a different way," he amended and once again it was the complete truth. "You were corruptible, innocent… I didn't want to be the guy that tainted you."

"And now?"

"Uh… I think you corrupted yourself."

"Oh definitely," she jibbed, her smirk growing and her doubt quickly evaporating. "So before I was innocent and now I'm not so innocent," she summarized, seductively getting onto her knees, moving ever so slightly towards him. "What happens when she comes back?"

No other man could possibly have smiled as large or as deeply as he did when she slid before him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Nothing," he whispered huskily, his arms instinctive finding her waist. Barely even touching and already he could feel himself responding to her.

"Not even a little monkey sex between primates?" There that monkey was again and even with her saying it in a sexy and deep voice he couldn't help but feel that 'response' from before slip.

"You just killed it, you know that?" he pouted.

Quirking her own sleek brow into a mischievous arch she cooed, "So doing CPR would be a stupid idea?" As she spoke she seductively crawled into his lap, her thighs resting tightly on either side of his waist.

"Well," he groaned out, just the feel of her there, making his mind useless. "It hasn't been dead for that long."

"Oh," she whispered, running a languished hand through his messy mane of brown locks. Damn, for a woman whose never had much experience she sure knew what to do. Guess it's a female thing. Leaning into the touch, his hands took a dangerous course, slipping beneath her shirt. She gasped, reveling in the feel of his callused hands gliding up her sensitive never-been-touched-in-that-way back. The moment her head dipped back he pounced on her neck. Slowly at first, he kissed his way along the lean and slender flesh, eliciting deeper groans of approval.

Winding her hand into the hairs at the back of his neck she breathlessly whispered between her moans. "We still… have papers… to grade."

"I can think of something else we could do into the wee hours of the morning," he quipped an infamous brow rising suggestively.

"You're incorrigible," she muttered.

All he could do was grunt. And then whimper when her lips crashed down on his. There was no expectation and when her soft supple lips found his he struggled to keep himself from devouring her. The sensation of kissing, truly kissing without repercussion, without screams and disgusting blue veins almost overwhelmed the lithe woman. Morphing her body to his she suckled his bottom lip into her mouth and nibbled. He growled and without warning his tongue found hers and fought for control, one hand burying into her mass of curls, holding her steadily against him. Heaven, pure and somewhat adulterated heaven, that's where she was, she was happy, she was ecstatic, she was blissful and for the most idiot reasons imaginable she brought it all crumbling down.

Pulling away, licking her now swollen and wholly reddened lips, she smile down at him. He however growled, wanting her back. She wouldn't have it. Sliding off of him and back towards her papers she ordered softly, teasingly, "Grading now."

"Gah!" he protested, falling back onto her soft and seriously warm bed. "You expect a man to concentrate on history after that?"

Smirking like a malicious little minx she mused, "Call it incentive."

Grumbling and groaning like a puppy that just lost his favorite play toy, Logan forced himself off the bed and back towards his couch. "You're cruel," he grumbled.

Perched atop her bed, glasses hanging at the tip of her nose, her legs crossed once more and her nose deeply rooted in her papers she added, "And unusual, I know. Just be glad I didn't mention the monkey again."

Shaking his head softly and collapsing into the overstuffed couch he called over to her, "What is it with you and monkeys?"

Twirling a menacing hair around her finger and huffing as she pulled it behind her ear she quipped, "I like monkeys."

Adjusting his now uncomfortable sweat pants, Logan had to forcibly put himself back into History-Teacher mode. It was hard when all he could think about was the gorgeous and absolute tease sitting on the more then adequate bed. He managed somehow and was able to clear his mind enough to grade his last few papers. The time slipped by comfortably as they worked. Breaks were made for coffee and quick, far too chaste kisses. Before either one knew it the hours had dwindled by.

Scratching down the last and most useful suggestion he could for his hopeless students, he glanced towards his counter part and smiled softly. Hazed just a little, she stretched her arms as far as they would go letting out the cutest and most adorable sound ever to be created. Bringing her arms above her head and arching his breath caught. Beautiful, that's all he could think. Letting her arms drop like dead weight she reached for her coffee mug. Empty. The thermos too.

Stacking his papers, Logan stood and stretched himself before trudging over to her. Rogue peered up at him, her eyes slightly glazed over and a pout forming on her lips.

"Coffee's gone," she pouted.

Nodding Logan looked out the large window behind her bed and grinned. "Suns coming up."

Turning she smiled sleepily. "So it is."

When she turned back to peer up at him, he shook his head. Leaning over he kissed her forehead and started to gather her papers together.

"I can do that," she added, reaching to do it.

Gently he swatted her hands away. "You look dead, let me do it."

She scoffed. "Well that'll earn you brownie points, not."

Chuckling, he took all the papers into his hand and placed them on the table before her bed. Turning to her he reached behind her head and grabbed at the red pen that'd found its way back into her messy bun. "Does it help any that you make a very cute zombie?"

"Some," she paused when suddenly her reading glasses were taken from her face and placed on the table next to her things. "Somewhat."

"Good," he grumbled huskily, leaning over on the bed and pushing her down. She giggled the whole way down, her slender arms wrapping around his neck. Placing a hand under her back her dragged her up to the head of the bed then grabbed at the blankets. She arched her body so he could get at them. Before covering her up with them she grabbed at his arm.

"You staying?" she inquired somewhat hesitantly.

"Only if we sleep," he responded with a loving tenderness to his voice.

"And if I wanna do other things?"

Sighing, Logan perched himself on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in his. "I'm not gonna deny that I want you… I've thought about it, obsessed actually… how it would feel." His other hand found its way into her hair, curling the strands around his fingers. "Touch is new to you, so I don't wanna move too fast. I wanna take things nice and slow between us, okay?"

Blushing profusely she thought about it then leaned into his hand. "Okay, but you do want me right?" she questioned, pulling the blankets up for him to slide under.

Eyeing her warmly he just shook his head and climbed in beside her. She rolled over, a request for him to nuzzle her from behind, a request he had no qualms following through with. Pulling the large comforter over them he parted her legs, placing one of his own between them. Gliding one arm under her pillow and her head he found her arm already there and looped their fingers together. His other arm wrapped around her waist pulling her close.

She snuggled into him, letting herself adjust to the feel of him surrounding her like a blanket, a very muscular and hot blanket. A wistful sigh filled the room when she found comfort. "We got a lot done tonight," she murmured, sleep already started to take hold.

"Yeah, we did." His voice was just as hazed. He wanted to drown in this moment, never wanted it to end. If he could, he'd do this every morning and night. It just fit, like it was the most natural thing in the world and he wondered why he never did it before.

"I'm glad you joined in the tradition," she spoke past the yawn taking her over, a smile gracing her lazy features.

"Me too." It was becoming hard for him to speak. Just having her by his side was making sleep that much easier for him when normally it was the worst part of his day. She fell silent for a while, snuggling deeper into his hold. Just when he thought he could let sleep take hold she spoke again, her voice barely above a windy whisper.

"Logan?"

"Hmm?"

"Tell me again?" The hitch in her voice, the blatant joy that lingered there was not lost on him.

His chest rumbled against her as he fought the laughs trying to announce themselves. Tightening his hold on her, bringing his lips to rest just behind her ear, he breathed out, "Last time, ever, you got that."

"Just say it… please?" she begged warmly, wanting the words to send her off to one the most restful slumbers in her history.

"You," he whispered, his warm breath spiraling around her ear. "Are… always have… and always will be… my… first."

"Good, now shush, beauty sleep trying to be had here." Even when almost completely lost to the bliss of sleep she still couldn't stop herself from joking. Damn he loved this woman. Now all he had to do was get that image of silver and not so silver backed monkeys out of his head.


End file.
